


Three Goals

by Blue_Night



Category: Football RPF, Real Person Fiction
Genre: 22. November 2016, Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Champions League, Established Relationship, Explicit Sexual Content, Hand Jobs, M/M, Marco and Erik being back on the pitch, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Rewards, Semi-Public Sex, three goals
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-24
Updated: 2016-12-14
Packaged: 2018-09-01 23:59:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,193
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8643247
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Blue_Night/pseuds/Blue_Night
Summary: On November, the 22th 2016, Marco Reus has celebrated a wonderful comeback, playing ninety awesome minutes the Champions League game against Warsaw as the captain and shooting three goals. The UEFA might credit him only with two goals, but his boyfriend Erik is determined to reward him for three. Will Marco like his way of rewarding him?





	1. Goal One

**Author's Note:**

  * For [GoForGoals](https://archiveofourown.org/users/GoForGoals/gifts).



> Durmeus is back!! Marco and Erik are finally back on the pitch together!! I was there, watching this memorable game in the stadium, and it has been a great and wonderful, magical night with one of the surely craziest games imaginable. My first time watching a football game in the stadium ever, and what a hell of a first time it has been! I know that the UEFA subsequently chose to count the last goal as an own goal, but I do believe that for most of the fans, Marco has been the one shooting the eighth goal in the very last minute.
> 
> My dear GoForGoals, thank you so much for two wonderful days in Dortmund, I enjoyed watching this special and unique match with you more than words can express. Last Tuesday was surely the highlight of the year!! This story is entirely for you and I hope that you will like it and the rewards Erik has chosen for Marco's three goals. :-*
> 
> My dear readers, please leave kudos and comments if you liked this story, your visible support and encouragment for my story would really mean a lot to me. <33

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Marco and Erik leave the locker room after the match, and Erik decides to reward his wonderful boyfriend for his first goal right away by giving him a hand job in the stall of one of the restrooms in the stadium...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I couldn't resist to write this chapter before finishing the next chapter of One Year With The King, because I had it clearly in my mind, and it simply wanted to be written down...

“You have been so great, babe!” Erik whispers into Marco's ear for the felt hundredth time when they finally leave the locker room after this crazy and somehow magical night, but it's not as though Marco would mind that.

On the contrary, the blond footballer wouldn't say anything against Erik praising him in this hoarse and raspy voice for another hundred times, and he smiles back at their left wing-back, furtively squeezing his hand when he's sure that no one is looking. They are the last ones to leave the locker room anyway, and Marco enjoys the feeling of Erik's warm fingers squeezing his own before pulling them away and starting off towards the exit.

“Do you really think so?” Marco can't help but ask as he eyes his boyfriend from the side with a probably totally stupid grin, just to hear Erik's husky voice praising him once more. He has waited so long for this comeback, has worked so hard for it, and he still fears that this evening has only been a dream he will wake up from any time soon just to find himself still being injured and unable to play. His younger boyfriend gifts him with a look that would be enough to let an entire forest catch fire and go up in flames, and before Marco even knows what's happening to him, the brunet has pulled him into the next restroom and pushed him into one of the stalls.

“Erik, what the hell are you do...!” His startled protest dies on his lips when Erik locks the door with a predatory expression in his hazel-green eyes, putting his finger onto his lips to silence him. “Shshsh, you don't want us to get caught, do you?” the man who has trapped Marco's heart purrs, invading Marco's personal space – which is rather easy in the very small stall – and almost shoving him against the wall. “And to answer your question: your performance and your three goals tonight deserve a proper reward, and I will reward you for your goal number one now!”

“They credited me only with two goals,” Marco mumbles, his eyes glued to Erik's smooth and oh so tempting red lips coming closer and closer.

Erik chuckles, a silent and rough sound that shoots straight into Marco's groin. The blond player is still filled to the brink with adrenaline, and Erik's scent, his sparkling eyes and his appraising look have him hard and aching within two seconds. “I don't care about what these idiots say. For me, it was you having shot the eighth goal!” With this, his amazing boyfriend presses his lips onto Marco's mouth, claiming it in a heated and passionate kiss that leaves no doubts about his intentions. Not that Marco would need this kiss as a reassurance, because there are deft fingers snaking their way into his pants and briefs, cupping his hard manhood and starting to stroke up and down on it without further ado.

Marco's ardent moan is stuck in his throat because of Erik's eager and cheeky tongue being buried to the hilt in his mouth, licking curiously around, and this might be a good thing, because the older one is pretty sure that he would be heard by everyone crossing the restroom otherwise. Erik doesn't even try to pretend that he wants this to last long, that he wants this to be defined and playful or anything else than just a hand job that is meant to drive Marco out of his mind with lust and get him off as fast as only possible.

Fuck, how the hell is he supposed to endure this without making too much noise? Marco has gotten a lot of hand jobs over the years, from other boys or men as much as from some girls, and he has jerked himself off more oftentimes than he can count, but none of these hand jobs has ever felt as good as the ones Erik is giving him always feel. On a scale from zero to ten, Erik reaches the twelve easily, and this each single damn time he's in the mood to gift him with one of his special and truly more than outstanding hand jobs.

This might also be the reason why Erik seems to be determined to eat him alive, never drawing back from Marco's tingling lips, but simply pushing deeper and deeper with his tongue, matching its thrusts with his firm strokes. Maybe, his ardent boyfriend simply wants to kiss him to death, turning him into one of those teeny idols like James Dean or so, those famous young actors or singers who had died young just when they had reached the top of their fame and success? Because Erik doesn't make any attempt to draw back from his lips and give him some time to breathe, he just kisses and kisses and kisses him, nibbling, licking, stroking and teasing him until Marco's head is spinning and his lungs threaten to burst because of the lack of air.

The warm fingers move up and down, up and down, Erik's thumb smearing the drops of pre-come he's milking from Marco over his throbbing shaft to use it as some kind of lube. Marco wants to moan and gasp, he wants to scream and shout out his need, but all that comes out of his mouth are some quiet and embarassingly needy whimpers that tell the younger one that he's doing a great job with driving his boyfriend nuts with his skilled and memorable hand job. Which is also the best reward Marco has ever gotten for one of his goals by the way.

Marco is close, so damn close, and this although Erik has started to get him off only two or three minutes ago. His cock is rock-hard and jerking and twitching in Erik's merciless fingers, leaking more wetness, and Marco fears that it will break up if it is getting harder and thicker than it already is. Erik even manages to purr and chuckle while kissing him, giving Marco one short second for a quick and shaky intake of air before pushing his tongue back where it has been, challenging Marco to battle for dominance with him.

The blond footballer is far too gone and far too aroused to be an equal opponent though, and he is grateful for the wall he can lean against for support, his senses focused on his approaching orgasm only. Erik's hand stops for the blink of an eye and Marco almost mewls, a desperate plea for his teammate, friend and lover to not stop but grant him the release he needs more than he has ever needed anything.

“Hm, you like that, don't you, Mars?” Erik purrs into his mouth in a low and pleased voice, and Marco can only whimper again, hoping that it will pass as agreement. It obviously does, because Erik begins to stroke him again with another contented purr. “Get your reward for your wonderful first goal, then!” The brunet murmurs, moving his hand faster and adding more pressure.

Marco's climax hits him without warning, and he feels as if being struck by lightning, his cock exploding like a volcano that has been under pressure for far too long. His entire body is shaking with the force of it, and he sobs his painful relief into the passionate mouth still devouring his own one.

'Clack', 'clack', the sound of the restroom door opening and closing again freezes Marco in place, and his eyes snap open in horror and disbelief. His dick is still shooting and there is nothing he can do to stop himself from coming and coming all over Erik's hand while the one who has just come in grumbles quietly to himself, entering the stall next to Marco's and Erik's.

Erik doesn't seem to be deterred or frightened by the thought that they could be caught in the act any second, he only deepens his kiss to swallow Marco's tiny whimpers and strokes him through his height without wavering as if they were still alone.

“Damn zipper!” the unknown man mutters, probably one of the wardens or paramedics. Marco listens to the sound of said damn zipper forcefully being pulled open and then, to the splashing sound of the Niagara Falls echoing in the musky air of the restroom with something akin to morbid fascination. His cock has finally gotten rid of the last drops of his ecstasy, shrinking to its normal size, but Erik keeps his hand wrapped firmly around it to catch the mess Marco has made. He stops the movements of his tongue – which Marco is truly grateful for - and for a while, they stand there like motionless marble statues, waiting for the unexpected visitor to finish and leave them alone again.

When the splashing sounds eventually stop after what has felt like an eternity, Erik draws back from his lips and leans his cheek against Marco's. The blond player dares to relax and closes his eyes, hoping that his legs will support his weight for a while longer. To their luck, the zipper has decided to cooperate this time, and it doesn't take long until the other man leaves the stall and the door closes behind him with another 'clack'.

“Urgh, he didn't wash his hands,” Erik states with obvious disgust, and this is finally too much for Marco who starts to laugh uncontrolled.

“Shshsh, Mars, we're still not out of the woods!” Erik chides him with a snicker, using some of the toilet paper to clean up the mess before throwing it into the toilet and bringing the blond's clothing back into order.

Marco follows him out of the stall when he is sure that they are really alone, stepping to the sink. “Don't forget to wash your hands, Erik!” he deadpans, pulling a wonderful growl from his boyfriend whose cheeks turn pink. The older player dries his hands with a paper towel and wraps his arms around Erik from behind, pressing a gentle kiss onto his fragrant light brown hair.

“This was a wonderful reward for my first goal, love, thank you,” he murmurs against his temple, and Erik raises his head and smiles at him in the mirror where he can see Marco's reflection. “You have been wonderful tonight, what a great comeback, babe!”

Marco nuzzles his cheek. “And it was even better because you have played, too, Erik,” he says, his face suffused with the love he feels for the younger footballer who has become his true mate over the last few months. “You and me together, back on the pitch, what could be better?”

Erik turns around in his arms to steal a quick kiss from him. “Oh, I could think of some things, me rewarding your for goal number two for example,” he whispers ardently against Marco's still swollen lips.

The blond chuckles as he pulls his boyfriend to the exit. “I'm already curious how you'll plan to do that.”

Erik winks at him, his eyes sparkling with mischief and his voice dropping to a seductive purr. “Let us go home, my proud captain, and I will show you.”

Strange, but Marco isn't quite sure if this is meant to be a promise or maybe more of a threat...


	2. Goal Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Erik has rewarded his boyfriend for his first goal, now, they are on their way to Marco's house where Erik wants to reward him for his other two goals...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My dear GoForGoals, I promised you to finish this story for you and let Erik reward Marco for his three wonderful goals and his amazing comeback, here is Erik's second reward for him. I hope you will like it. :-)

They drive back to Marco's house in silence, but it is the good kind of silence, filled with joyous thoughts and anticipation. Marco feels happy and sated, a little bit drowsy, but there is still enough adrenaline left in his system to keep him from falling asleep in the passenger seat.

The adrenaline together with the prospect of being rewarded for goal number two and three, actually, and Marco's thoughts start to wander, circling around the pleasant question of how, when and where his sometimes pretty cheeky but always amazing boyfriend plans to do that, time passing by very quickly while he is busied with solving this riddle.

Erik's full and from their passionate kiss still rather pink lips curl into an amused and knowing smirk when he feels Marco furtively side-eyeing him with appraising glances, but he stays silent, his own eyes firmly fixed on the front screen.

The blond footballer and hero of the evening and match doesn't need to wait for too long for the question to the 'how, when and where' Erik will reward him for goal number two to be answered, though, his very imaginative boyfriend giving it to him the minute their car slowly rolls through the gate, stopping before the large garage. Marco unfastens his seat-belt, hoping that the overhead door of his garage will move faster than usual, because he really wants to get out of the car and learn more about his second reward when they will be safe and sound in his house.

“Hmpf, Erik, what the heck...” his startled cry dies on his lips for the second time this evening when the air is pressed out of his lungs because Erik shoves him against the back of his seat when he tries to reach for the door handle before the car has even moved again. The brunet's hot mouth claim Marco's lips in another bruising kiss, stealing the rest of the little air from him that had been left in his lungs, and he pushes Marco's pants and briefs over his hips with skilled hands in one single move. Marco can't even tell how he's doing that, because he is still sitting, but Erik's determination seems to provide him with more strength than he already has anyway, and all Marco can do is lifting his ass from his seat as high as possible being trapped between the younger one and the seat as he is.

Erik growls contentedly when the offending garment is out of the way, letting go of the blond's tingling lips to bend down and take Marco's cock deep in his mouth without further ado.

“ARGKJFDSKJASKKRR!!!” The blond footballer stares down at the shock of tousled, light-brown hair bobbing up and down in his lap, feeling himself hardening under the ardent onslaught as if he hadn't just gotten more than his fill only half an hour ago.

Maybe, it is still the damn adrenaline, maybe, it is the crazy situation of him being trapped in his car in the middle of the driveway leading to his garage, the front gate just closing with a dull noise in this very minute, Marco can't tell for sure.

What he can tell for sure is that he doesn't feel like a grown-up men in his late twenties - who has finally played an exhausting match over ninety minutes for the first time in ages again - but just like a horny teenager making out with his first serious crush.

In his fucking car.

In his f... car before the f... front door leading to his f... big and comfortable house where his equally f... big and more than comfortable king-size bed is waiting for them to make good use of it. But instead of parking the vehicle in the garage and using his bed – their bed – Marco finds himself staring out of the front shield a little bit dumbfounded and with his mouth hanging open, while Erik's face is buried in his groin and his mouth is sucking his rock-hard dick as if there was no tomorrow.

This is exactly what two horny teenagers would do, being too afraid to sneak their way into the house to tiptoe through the corridor and hastily pass the bedroom of their parents which always have the annoying habit of waking up right when you have reached the middle of the halfway opened door, glaring at the two of you, dressed with ridiculous pajamas or nightdresses and your mother with intimidating big curlers in her hair.

This scenario is the nightmare of every teenager wanting to make out with their crushes, therefore, sex in a car seems to be the more preferable choice, even though no car except for a giant limousine is actually big enough to have sex in there without bumping your head or twist your arms and legs all of the time.

Marco tries to remember the last time he has had sex in his car, and he has to strain his head, because having sex in a car somewhere where you can get caught is nothing well-known footballers should do, even more when they're having sex in their car with another man, a teammate even...

The last time Marco finally remembers – which is pretty hard with the passionate slurping and burping sounds Erik is making while driving him crazy with his sucking skills – must actually have been when he was eighteen or nineteen, thinking that having sex in a car is something every normal and healthy young man must have experienced at least one time in his life.

The making out session back then was disturbed by only little bumping and twisting, and it was also satisfying, but Marco also remembers having had a hard time with scrubbing the suspicious traces they had left from the expensive leather backseat afterwards.

Removing traces from their seats is nothing Marco probably has to worry about at the moment, though, because his astonishing boyfriend works his throbbing cock as if he wanted to eat it, which means that he will probably swallow what Marco will feed him with soon enough if he keeps doing what he's doing with such passion and single-minded determination.

Marco doesn't have any chance to turn this into a real make-out session, either, he's still effectively trapped in his seat, his left hand clawing Erik's hair not sure whether it wants to push him deeper into his groin or rather pull him away from his painful arousal to reach their bed before it's too late. The fingers of his right hand cling to the handle of the passenger's door for dare life, and Marco curses inwardly when his hips arch upwards to their own will, pushing his cock even deeper into Erik's mouth and making him almost gag with that. His mind is spinning with lust and the aftermath of the match and the adrenaline, and his entire body feels like being on fire again.

Fuck, this is so good, Marco feels almost angry with himself and embarrassed that he didn't see this coming. After Erik's incredible hand job in the public toilet in the stadium, he should have watched out and expected his boyfriend jumping him like this. The younger one is as skilled when it comes to blow jobs as he is when it comes to hand jobs, his sweet and soft pink lips sucking and stroking his poor cock until stars explode before Marco's eyes with every move.

Not to mention Erik's tongue.

Marco remembers vaguely from school that snakes and frogs have long and agile tongues, but not humans. Human tongues are too short to be as agile as Erik's tongue miraculously is, and his irritating boyfriend is also a footballer training his legs and not some kind of circus performer training his mouth-parts. How the heck can any human being have such an agile and clever tongue? It swirls and licks around Marco's shaft that all the blond wants to do is scream and shout with the hot jolts of pleasure coursing through him, but considering that he's sitting in his car on his driveway right behind the front gate, this might not be a good idea.

His neighbors normally leave him alone, but some of them take late walks with their dogs, and Marco really doesn't want to risk them calling the police because of the muffled screams and shouts they have heard from the other side of the large fence surrounding his house. The mere thought of him having to explain what was going on in his car right before they showed up with siren wailing and blue light flashing makes him shiver, and this shiver is actually a shudder of horror instead of the intense pleasure Erik's ardent ministration makes him feel.

“E-E-Erik-k, are you sure that you want to do THAT here in m-m-my c-car?” Marco somehow manages to croak out, relieved that he at least hasn't lost his ability to speak, now that the pressure is taken from his chest and his mouth so he can actually breathe again. He only has to frown because his voice sounds strange to him, more like the high-pitched squeal of his former English teacher, the old lady who jumped onto her chair with surprising elegance, screaming in exactly the same high-pitched voice when Marcel and Robin freed the two totally cute white mice in the classroom during an especially boring lesson...

“Yessss, slrp, 'm sssslure!” Erik replies, vigorously nodding his head in something akin to grim agreement, which leads to more bobbing up and down and therefore to Marco's cock hardening even more as well, that much that the blond player fears that it will break up if Erik won't allow him to come any time soon.

Which his annoying boyfriend of course doesn't. Erik knows him far too well to not sense him getting close after an embarrassingly short amount of time, and he draws back just before it is too late, craning his head to smirk up at him.

Shit, shit, shit! Marco tries to make an impassive face, which doesn't work, at least if his torturing boyfriend's smug grin is any indication. “B-b-but I – I c-can't pleasure you this way-y!” he stammers, trying to pull Erik up. The younger one only proves his physical strength once more, staying where he is with his mouth hovering over his poor unhappy tears weeping member that twitches in the weak attempt to bury itself in the heavenly, wet warmth again.

Erik's grin deepen, and he actually manages to stick out his tongue and tease the engorged head of his cock with the tip of it while still looking at him and fluttering his eyelashes. “You're not supposed to do anything, darling,” he flutes, his tone as smug as his expression is. “You're only supposed to enjoy your reward!”

“Hrmpf!” Marco pouts. “I could enjoy this much better if you stopped driving me crazy and would just let me come!”

“Ah, is it working? Am I really driving you crazy?” Erik exclaims excitedly, and Marco scowls at him. At least he tries to scowl at him, which is pretty hard when you're sitting half naked in your car with your pants pooling around your knees and a raging hard-on poking desperately into the air.

“You know that you are, Durm!” the blond snaps, scratching the last shreds of his dignity together. “I'm tired, so will you please take pity on me?”

“How could I not?” Erik purrs, licking over his throbbing cock again. You really deserve to be rewarded for goal number two, so enjoy your reward now, Marco Reus!” The brunet bends down again, and Marco can't hold back the loud “Fuck! Fuck! Fuck! Yessssss!!” when Erik sucks him deep in his throat. His hips jerk and his right hand clenches around the door handle until his knuckles turn white, while the fingers of his left hand dig painfully into the scalp of his amazing boyfriend.

“Ooooohhh, uuuuhhhh, Erik, love, yoouu'rre sooo good at thissss!” Marco hears himself howling, and it takes only five more ups and downs of Erik's hot pink lips on his dick to let the first wave of a second incredible orgasm wash over him.

“EERRRIIKK!” the blond shouts, not caring about neighbors or sirens and blue lights any longer.

Marco forgets everything, that he's sitting in his car on the driveway before the garage right behind the wall shielding his house, he even forgets the reason for sitting with his pants pulled down in the passenger seat while Erik is blowing him, namely that the best blow job ever he's just getting is actually his reward number two for his goal number two.

Marco forgets all of this as he shoots his heavy load into the clever and willing mouth, the breathtaking ecstasy coursing through him erasing every coherent thought. When it is finally over, he slumps back against his seat, trying to catch his breath and stop the whirling carousel his mind has become.

“Oooh, uuuh, ff-fuck,” he gasps out, cracking one eye open when Erik releases his soft dick from his mouth after thoroughly licking it clean with a wet 'plopp'. “I'll take that as approval,” his contented boyfriend states dryly, but with a tender undertone in his voice. “Was it any good? As good as your second goal?”

Marco slowly shakes his head. “Nope.”

“W-w-what?” Erik's eyes become big rounds, and his lips start to tremble.

Sometimes, Marco really doesn't understand why he's still bothering with someone manipulating him that easily like Erik is actually able to. “Oh, come here, man!” he grouses not very convincingly, pulling him close to kiss him. “You know quite well that this was much better than my second goal. My goal didn't let me see stars, your blow job did!”

Erik kisses him back, snickering gleefully. “I'm pleased to hear that, my wonderful goal-scorer. Now, let's get you dressed again and your car in the garage. I'm eager to reward you for your third goal, as well.”

Marco's eyes fly open with something akin to horror, and he stares at his very awake and very cheerful boyfriend with a dropped jaw, gulping for air like a stranded fish. “You're not serious about that, are you? The UEFA doesn't credit me with the third goal. You really don't need to strain yourself for a third time. Besides, I'm not sure that I will get it up again tonight, sorry.”

Erik only grins again, his agile and clever tongue snaking its way into Marco's sensitive ear. “Don't worry about me straining myself too much, I've enough strength left. Plus, I really don't care about the stupid UEFA not crediting you with the eighth goal. For me, you have been the one scoring, and I am determined to reward you properly for your third goal, just like you deserve it, so let's hurry up please!” he whispers into his ear, pulling back to start the engine and park their car in the garage.

Marco groans.


	3. Goal Three

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Marco and Erik have gone home, after Erik's first reward, and Erik has rewarded Marco for his second goal by giving him a blow job in his car on Marco's driveway. Will Erik be able to reward Marco for his third goal, as well, and what has he planned as his third reward?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My dear GoForGoals, I wanted to finish this story for you, and chapter 3 almost wrote itself, I hope you will like it. :-)

Marco startles awake, not sure what has roused him from his sleep of exhaustion. The last thing he remembers is him crawling into his huge, warm and cozy bed to wait for Erik coming out of the bathroom, closing his eyes for just one minute...

Damn it! The blond player blinks his eyes open, and the grayish light falling through the only halfway closed shutters proves to him that it must be early in the morning and that he has closed his eyes for much longer than only one or two minutes.

Shit, shit, shit, this can't be true, can it? It can't be that he has fallen asleep without seeing to Erik getting his fill as well after the incredible hand job and blow job his sweet boyfriend has rewarded him with? Oh no! Marco closes his eyes in horror and suppresses a groan. Erik must be truly angry with him now, and Marco can only hope that the most beautiful man walking on earth will allow him to make up for his rudeness of falling asleep just like that and leaving him unsatisfied.

The soft chuckle close to his ears makes him flinch, and Marco risks one eye and slowly turns his head. The most beautiful man walking on earth lies next to him on his left side, his head comfortably propped on his hand, watching him with an amused expression.

“Good morning, sleepy head. Finally among the living again?” he offers a halfway tender and halfway mocking morning greeting. Marco swallows and licks over his dry lips to wet them. “Good morning, love. I fell asleep yesterday, didn't I?” he mumbles sheepishly, and Erik nods his head, which looks a little weird due to his position with his chin pressed into his palm.

“Yep, you did.”

“Oops, I'm so sorry, love, I really didn't mean to leave you unsatisfied...” Marco winces in embarrassment, and Erik's purses his lips, mischief sparkling in his eyes. “Who says that you did that?” he asks casually, and Marco frowns at this obviously more rhetorical than real question. “You didn't take advantage of me while I was sleeping, did you? I would surely remember it if I had helped you getting off. Plus, I would surely remember reward number three, because the memory of reward number one and two are clear in my head!” he says, and his sometimes pretty mysterious boyfriend chuckles again.

“You're right, you fell asleep before I could reward you for your third goal, but you yet helped me getting off, nevertheless,” Erik tells him, and Marco turns on his side to face him. “And how did I do that?” he asks, irritated and confused.

His question actually makes the brunet blush. “It wasn't exactly you doing that,” he starts, his cheek glowing in the adorable pink Marco is addicted to. “I mean, it wasn't exactly the real you helping me, but some kind of substitute...”

Marco narrows his eyes. “You're speaking in riddles, Erik. Care to enlighten me?”

“Uhm.” Erik bites his lips. “I didn't have the heart to wake you up when I saw that yo were sound asleep, your heartfelt snoring and your blissed out expression were too cute to do that to you,” he snickers, making Marco scowl at him. “I don't snore!” he objects, although he suspects that he does snore now and then.

“Only when you're truly exhausted,” Erik consoles him, reaching out with his right hand to caress Marco's face. “I tried to go to sleep as well, but me rewarding you had been – hm...rather inspiring - so to speak , and when I realized that I wouldn't be able to sleep without taking care of myself, I got up again and went to the living room to watch TV.”

“You watched a porn and jerked off?” Marco stares at him with big eyes, his thoughts racing with the attempt to remember which porns he keeps on his racks with the DVDs and the blue ray discs, especially a porn where he is starring himself, because Erik said something about a Marco substitute for the 'real' him?

“Not exactly a porn...” Erik manages to look innocent and sheepish and wink at him at the same time. “I re-watched our match, I had programmed it before we left to go to the stadium.”

“Our match?!” Marco blinks. “You jerked off while you watched our match?” he asks incredulously.

Erik shrugs his shoulder, grinning at him with sparkling eyes. “Yes, I did.”

Marco observes him, searching for signs that his pretty annoying boyfriend is fooling him, but Erik returns his mistrustful gaze sincerely and without blinking. “You do know that you have a strange taste sometimes, don't you, Erik? How is our game supposed to be some kind of porn?” he finally states, and Erik's gaze becomes that tender and loving, that the blond has to swallow against the sudden lump in his throat.

His boyfriend strokes over his stubbly cheek with rapt devotion, and his smile is the most beautiful smile Marco has ever seen. “No porn in this world can be as arousing as watching you running over the pitch and shooting such wonderful goals for our BVB actually is, love, don't you doubt that. Words cannot express my emotions when I saw you back in our jersey, wearing the captain's armband and shooting not only one but three goals for us yesterday. It was definitely one of the best moments in my life, and I simply had to watch it again. I know that it is probably pretty weird that I found it that arousing and jerked off while doing it, but when they showed your face after your first goal... I just couldn't help it. I'm sorry,” Erik says, and Marco pulls him close without thinking, burying his face on Erik's warm shoulder to inhale deeply his beloved scent.

“Don't be, love, it's not weird, at all. I felt the same way when I saw you playing again for the first time after months of injuries and pain,” he murmurs against his throat. Erik's skin is warm and smells wonderfully, of sleep, shower gel and comfort, but most of all, it smells of pure and wonderful Erik, the most amazing boyfriend in the entire world. “I love you so much,” he breathes, and Erik snuggles close to him and kisses his temple. “I love you, too, very, very much.”

For a while, they stay like this, but then, Erik pulls away to kiss him, and the way he kisses him with uttermost passion makes clear that Marco won't have to wait for reward number three for much longer. The blond feels a little bit uncomfortable because of his morning mouth, but Erik obviously doesn't care about that, his tongue exploring and claiming the soft cavern of his mouth thoroughly and with greatest pleasure, judging by the hardness poking against Marco's thigh. Erik himself tastes as wonderful and tempting as always, and Marco might not be a horny teenager anymore, but he is a healthy young man crazy in love and filled to the brink with happy pheromones, and his already half-hard morning wood thickens to full length in no time by the feeling of an aroused and eager Erik rubbing himself against his hipbone.

“Are you ready to get your third reward, love?” the younger one gasps out when they have to part for air, and Marco moans in agreement and nuzzles Erik's throat. “More than ready!” he assures him, and Erik purrs contentedly and reaches out to take the bottle with the lube from the nightstand. Marco is glad that they don't need to use rubbers any longer, being together for long enough to trust each other with that, because feeling each other without this thin barrier is so much better.

Erik yet surprises him again, because he doesn't hand the lube to him or starts to prepare him, but slicks his throbbing cock up instead. “Woah, Erik! I should prepare you at first, don't you think so?”

His cheeky boyfriend only shakes his head with a snicker, pushing against Marco until he lies flat on his back. “No, you shouldn't. I told you that you were not supposed to do anything but enjoy the ride. I woke up before you and I prepared myself while you were still sleeping.”

Erik crawls on top of him with his ass hovering right over Marco's impressive erection, and the blond has to bite his lip to not just come like that as he watches the most beautiful man walking on earth slowly impaling himself on his rock-hard dick.

Fuck, this feels so good. Erik is so tight and so hot and so perfect around his aching member, his smooth, silken walls instinctively clenching against the intrusion massaging him with just the right pressure. A loud moan fills the heavy air of their bedroom, and Marco flinches when he realizes that it was him mewling this loudly. His amazing boyfriend answers him with an ardent gasp that luckily sounds as needy as he feels, and when he is fully seated, Marco sheathed inside him to the hilt, he bends forward, taking Marco's wrists in a tender but firm grip to pin his hands down on the pillow at each side of his head.

Their faces are only few inches away from each other, and Marco loses himself in the hazel-green depths of the most beautiful eyes in the entire universe, now dark with desire, passion and love. Erik smiles down at him, and his smile is as beautiful and breathtaking as his with unquestioning love filled eyes are, the teasing from the night before all gone as he returns Marco's fascinated and longing glance. “I'll make you feel good, love,” his wonderful boyfriend whispers, his lips ghosting over Marco's flushed features. “I'll make you scream my name and forget who you are.”

Before the blond can react to that, the air is sucked out of his lungs with another passionate kiss, Erik's tongue pushing deep into his mouth and reaching right into his soul. Marco's eyes fall shut with the sensation of full and soft, pink lips moving over his own and the oh so clever and agile tongue making his mind spin with lust and burning desire. Erik still doesn't move, but he tightens his walls around Marco's cock in the same rhythm he moves his tongue, and Marco wants to voice his need and pleasure with screams and shouts, but all that comes out of his throat are some strangled, purring and groaning noises, swallowed by Erik's hot mouth.

The younger one keeps kissing him until Marco thinks that he will black out not only from the lack of air, but also from the pure and hot pleasure filling every cell of his with arousal burning body, and just when his mind starts to spin and his thoughts vanish, Erik draws back from his swollen and tingling lips and starts to move.

 

***

 

Up and down, up and down, Marco's entire world consists of nothing but Erik's ups and downs any longer.

His eyes are glued to the sight of the brunet with the most beautiful face and body he has ever seen in his life moving up and down on his cock, and all he can think of is that this amazing being is his, his, his, his, and his only. His to take, his to cherish, his to kiss and his to love. Erik, his beautiful and wonderful Erik is making love to him, pulling himself up and pushing down again in that rolling, torturingly slow rhythm that threatens to drive Marco crazy and make him lose his mind. Erik's hands are still trapping Marco's wrists on the pillow beside his head, but he has entangled their fingers, and Marco doesn't really want to pull away.

“Love you, love you so!” he grinds out, and Erik bends down to kiss him again, the new angle serving to stimulate the younger one riding him that ardently even more, and Marco enjoys the shivers wrecking Erik's lithe body more than his own arousal.

“Love you, too. Want to drive you crazy!” Erik moans, shivering again. His body moves faster to its own will, and Marco cranes his neck to feel his lips on his mouth again. “I am already crazy, love. Crazy in love with you, Erik... ooohhh, Eeerrik!” His love confession ends in a strangled cry, and Erik laughs and starts to fuck himself on Marco's cock in earnest. “Ah yes, babe, let me hear you screaming my name!” he demands, and all the blond can do is obey the hoarse order, arching his back in desperate need.

“Erik, oooohhhh, Eerrrriiiik! Eeeeeeerik! Aaaahhh, Ee-e-e-ri-i-i-k! Eeeeeerrikkkk!” he gasps, grunts, groans and shouts, hot pleasure pooling in his groin like magma pools in the calderas of a volcano that is about to explode. “Eeerriikk, please, I'm clo-o-ose-e!” he almost sobs, and the astonishing being that is his and his alone smiles down at him with love and desire. “Yes, my beloved goal-scorer, come for me! Come for me, babe and scream my name!” he whispers, moving his hips in a frantic rhythm. Wet skin slaps against wet skin, and Erik's gorgeous cock bouncing up and down right with his owner's ups and downs grows thicker and longer, suddenly starting to shoot like a machine gun. “Marco!” Erik cries out, his hot and tight channel milking Marco's dick with their spasms as his so beloved boyfriend comes hard all over Marco's sweaty abs and his chest.

“ERIK!!!” Marco's vision goes white as he follows the man he loves more than anything over the edge, pumping his painfully intensive release deep into Erik's secret core. The blond footballer forgets how to breathe, he forgets the world outside their bedroom, he even forgets his name, the only one still existing for him Erik still moving up and down on him with wanton abandon, his warmth surrounding Marco and his fingers holding Marco's hands grounding him.

The blond doesn't know how long it goes on like this, wave after wave of ecstasy hitting him with violent force, and he is grateful when the painful pleasure subsides to the warm afterglow filling every fiber of his body with poor bliss.

Erik slumps down on him with a happy purr, and when he releases Marco's hands, the older one wraps his arms tightly around his wonderful boyfriend and rocks him, whispering tender nonsense into his ear. “Love you, love you so, Erik, my wonderful, beautiful Erik, love you so much.”

“Love you too, Marco. I'm so proud of you. You have been so great yesterday, so, so great. You don't know how proud of you I am! You're the best, you have been so amazing yesterday, and I love you more than anything,” the brunet murmurs against his throat, and Marco knows for sure that he is the luckiest man walking on earth, not because he is finally back on the pitch again or because he has shot three goals the previous evening, but because Erik loves him and always stands by his side, no matter what.

When Erik finally raises his head to smile at him, Marco smiles back, stroking his face. “Did you like your three rewards?” the brunet asks, the mischief back in his sparkling eyes, and Marco kisses him with all the love he feels for him.

“Yes, Erik, I liked them, more than I can tell you. I actually loved them. But, the best reward ever is just you loving me. As long as you will love me, I will be the richest and happiest man in this world.”

“I will always be there, Marco. You will never be alone again, because I will always love you, ” Erik assures him tenderly, sealing his promise with a tender kiss.

 

  _Author's notes:_

My dear readers, this story is a story about rewards.

Erik rewards Marco for his three goals in a very special way, showing him how much he values and loves him. He could also simply have shrugged his shoulders and said: "Why should I bother to praise you and reward you? You have merely done your job. You're a footballer, supposed to always give your best and shoot goals to let your team win."

Yes, it is Marco's job, but being praised and rewarded for having played a great match is cruical for professional footballers, nevertheless, as much as it is for each and every other worker doing their jobs.

There is a German proverb a lot of people live by nowadays: _"Nicht geschimpft ist auch gelobt."_ : _"Their silence is praise enough."_ You could also translate it this way: _"Not saying anything bad is as good as a praise."_

I can tell you that it is not. Those of you who have read _'Victory And Loss'_ already know how I feel, that posting in this fandom has become a source of disappointment and frustration instead of joy because of the lack of feedback. The lack of support, praise and encouragment is the reason why I decided to take a break from this fandom, and at the moment, I am not sure if I will ever come back. I have lost so many former faithful readers, I have even gotten the proof that some of them have decided to not support me actively in the future anymore, to not leave kudos and comments so they won't get 'caught' reading my stories - for whatever reason. This hurts, it hurts pretty much.

Knowing that I am not the only writer feeling this way, and that something like this happened to other users posting here as well, I decided to write these notes for you. AO3 is meant for sharing fanworks and stories, and most of the writers I know need feedback for their stories as much as I do, so I can only ask you again to support them actively instead of just being silent readers. There is nothing better, more rewarding and heartwarming than coming home after a long and exhausting working day and find those little hearts and encouraging comments under the stories we have spent hours with writing and posting for you. This is what keeps us writing and posting for you in the first place, motivated to improve our writing and provide you with some carefree and enjoyable hours of diving into another world for at least a little while.

Silence is NOT a sign of approval or praise. Silence is indifference, and indifference oftentimes is worse than hate or anger. This deadly silence under their fics is what makes a lot of great writers disappear as silently as their readers have been, taking their stories with them and doubting themselves and their doing.

We are all human beings that need praise, rewards, support and encouragment to go on with what we are doing. Please don't use the tools you have in kudos and comments as weapons, saying:

_'I leave only kudos and/or comments when I really, really, loved a story or a long WIP is finished, because it could be that I don't like the last chapter.'_

I have heard/read such statements a lot of times, and it always felt like some kind of powerplay to me, the writer having to fear all of the time that the best they're giving won't be enough, that their works won't be worth anything if one minor part might not be as good as all of the many others they have delivered. What about the twenty-nine chapters of a thirty chapter WIP you truly liked? Shouldn't they count more than the one you didn't like? What about the story that might not have been outstanding, but truly nice?

Use these tools as a sign of respect and approval for the time, care, heart and love the authors in this archive have put into their works so you can read them for free. Not every story might be as great that you will remember it for months, but if you have read it to the end and enjoyed it, it will surely be worthy enough to give the author something back and reward them like Erik has rewarded Marco - even for the goal that officially isn't his, at all. Without Marco, there wouldn't have been an eighth goal in the very last minute, that's for sure. No matter whose foot has pushed the ball into the net in the end. He deserved to be rewarded for it, deserved to know that he is cherished and loved.

Pressing the kudos button, writing a short _'I enjoyed it!'_ takes only some seconds or a few minutes. There should always be enough time for that. Some people told me that they didn't have time for leaving any kind of feedback. It seems strange that someone might have the time to read a 4000 words long chapter, which takes surely twenty minutes or more, depending on how quick or slow they are when it comes to reading, but not the minute that would take to leave a smiling face or three words of approval in a comment, let alone the second it takes to press a button? Us authors don't expect long essays or reviews written perfectly in words and grammar for our fics, all we long for is the visible sign that you liked it, no matter how short it might be.

Making others happy is what makes us happy, as well. Seeing the joy in the faces of those we have rewarded for their efforts is our reward, so please, take your time to reward all of these amazing writers here in AO3 for what they are doing for you instead of just being silent. It will be worth it, I can promise you. I have met some of the most wonderful persons imaginable here in AO3 because of the kudos and comments I have given and received, and two of them have become two of my closest friends in real life. I would not want to miss them at any price. These few always faithful and supporting readers are the only reason I'm still here, that Blue_Night hasn't disappeared as silently as all of her other readers have become under most of her stories over the past months. It might be too late for me, but hopefully not for all the other amazing writers here, some of them as disappointed and discouraged about the silence lately as I have become. Please reward them and support them, they all more than deserve it.

I promised to finish this story before taking my break, and I will think carefully about whether or not to come back to the football fandom.

I wish you all the best, my dear readers, take care of yourself. <33

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [One Goal](https://archiveofourown.org/works/8682190) by [mariothellama](https://archiveofourown.org/users/mariothellama/pseuds/mariothellama)
  * [Celebrate Good Times, Come On!](https://archiveofourown.org/works/8683315) by [eafay70](https://archiveofourown.org/users/eafay70/pseuds/eafay70)




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